first
by robin hoods
Summary: "So." Yuuko giggles into the phone. "What was kissing Victor Nikiforov for the first time like?"


**Title:** first  
 **Summary:** "So." Yuuko giggles into the phone. "What was kissing Victor Nikiforov for the first time like?"  
 **Pairing:** Victor/Yuuri  
 **Notes:** First fic for this fandom, please be kind. :)

* * *

"So." Yuuko giggles into the phone. "What was kissing Victor Nikiforov for the first time like?"

Yuuri nearly chokes on his own spit at the blunt question, stopping his stride in the middle of the hotel room, foot halfway raised to take a step. He falters, heart hammering fast in his chest.

"Don't worry," she teases him, "it's not as if I can share your secret with the rest of the world, right"

"It's not exactly a secret anymore now, is it?" he asks, finding his footing again, his voice quieter than usual. His gaze drifts to the bed, still occupied, silver hair draped across the pillow.

"Nope," she chirps. "Was he your first kiss?" she cheerfully continues, always dying to know the details. "Oh! Was _that_ your first kiss? I have to admit, he likes to pull out all the stops, doesn't he?"

"He doesn't do things halfway, no." Victor likes surprises – both to give, and to receive. In some way, he should have seen it coming. Their first kiss in private had been a quiet affair, back in Yuuri's bedroom in Hasetsu. It's nearly fitting, then, that their first kiss in public was surrounded by flashing lights, cameras going off, the audience collectively gasping.

Yuuri sits down on the unused bed, sheets still neatly tucked into their corners. In the other bed, Victor slowly turns around. He's still asleep – he can tell, because his mouth is hanging open a little and he's drooling on the pillow. Yuuri smiles a private smile. He doesn't mind so much about the public kiss, because he gets to keep Victor.

"I need more specifics, though," Yuuko insists, startling him from his thoughts, and Yuuri swears he can hear one of the triplets at the other end as well, probably dying to get the first scoop on this. "Tell me more!"

Yuuri is inadvertently reminded of a conversation (or maybe multiple conversations) he had with Yuuko when they were young, when meeting Victor had been but a dream that he'd thought would never come true. He found a like-minded soul in her, always willing to listen to him ramble on about Victor, about his routines, his costumes, and sometimes (nearly always) his looks. And she responded in kind, just as enthusiastically plastered herself to the screen of the television to watch Victor's next competition. He was just an image back then, someone who embodied Yuuri's own hopes and dreams. He hadn't been real, not like he is now.

"It was cold," he says, and he can hear the pause as Yuuko tries to grasp what he means by that. "The ice, that is." He remembers it seeping into his costume, shivering a little underneath Victor's touch, and wanting to press his hot cheeks against the ice.

"Not _those_ details," Yuuko replies, teasingly, and he thinks that if they were in the same room together now, she would absolutely be blushing. She would absolutely insist she wasn't, too.

"I don't know what you mean." He knows he can be less ambiguous about it – he knows what she means, and she knows that he knows what she means. But there would be nothing left to talk about if he gave it all away in one go, right? "I thought the cameras captured it quite well, actually."

"It doesn't leave much to the imagination, no. Enough for me to know there couldn't possibly have been any tongue to tongue action."

" _Yuuko_!"

"But it's not like _we_ know what happened afterwards – congratulations on the silver, by the way! That flip was amazing!"

"Thank you," he murmurs, still taking care not to raise his voice too much. He fell asleep fairly quickly last night, so he has no idea at what time Victor finally drifted off. Besides, they can afford to take a short coaching break. Their plane doesn't leave for Japan until late in the afternoon, and it's just past nine in the morning.

"So, did anything end up happening, after…?" she asks.

"I'm going to hang up now," he tells her, seeing Victor stir from the corner of his eye. Yuuko can ask him again about all the details in person, when they're back in Hasetsu. If she dares to, that is.

"Who was that?" Victor asks, voice still addled with sleep.

"Yuuko-chan." He puts the phone down next to him on the bed, swaying his bare feet back and forth a little. "She wanted to congratulate me."

"I'm surprised she was the first to call," Victor mumbles into the pillow.

"Oh, she wasn't. She's just the first one that called after I woke up."

There is a long list of people he needs to call back, and an even longer list of unseen texts, but he sets his phone aside for now, his focus completely on the only other person in the room, the only person that truly matters right now.

"When was that?"

"Just a few minutes ago, after I went to the bathroom."

"A few minutes too long," Victor complains, and the corner of Yuuri's mouth tilts up. His feet hit the floor, carpeted a dull grey.

"Is the bed getting cold?" he conversationally says, his knees bumping against the mattress, the distance between the two beds short.

"Very cold," Victor confirms, and he hums when Yuuri slings one of his legs across his waist, breath escaping his body with the extra weight on top of him. "I like you like this."

"Like what?" He splays his fingers on Victor's bare chest, barely covered by the sheet still between them. Victor's hands are warm through the fabric of his shorts when he wraps his arms around him, drags him down so they're chest to chest. Victor burrows his face into Yuuri's neck, breathes deeply, and Yuuri laughs because the brush of air against the crook of his neck tickles, if only slightly.

"The way you are."

Yuuri slides off him, to the other side of the bed. Their skin never fails to touch – hasn't since last night, probably, barring the short trek to the bathroom and back. Victor held his hand during the short cab ride to the hotel. He slowly undressed him in the middle of this room, allowing Yuuri to do the same.

Their mouths touch, and they breathe into each other, carelessly but at the same time careful.

Yuuri has never felt like this for anyone before, and now, he welcomes Victor's touches like winter welcomes spring, new love bursting forth out of the earth.

"What am I?" he whispers when their lips are done tasting, one of his hands brushing Victor's fringe out of his eyes.

"Perfect the way you are," Victor whispers back, and the tenderness in his voice jolts Yuuri's heart, threatens to overflow it with love and kindness. He brushes his thumb against Victor's lower lip, his other fingers against the shell of his ear, and he doesn't think _What did I do to deserve you_ , but rather _How did we find each other? How did you find me, like I found you?_

He remembers a supportive look, a helping hand, guidance when he had felt lost and alone.

And Yuuri remembers, all too well, when he had wanted but hesitated, and Victor had chosen to clear the empty space between them to meet him in the middle.

"Thank you."


End file.
